


Lancer and his Lesser Dad

by MafagafoGirl



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Other, i needed to take this out of me because it's making me phase out, im blinking across time and space, im turning this into a series of one shots guys, lancer is like a toddler in my headcannon sorry, minor child neglect but not a lot, to me hes like 6 or 7 at best, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-08-22 09:58:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16595702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MafagafoGirl/pseuds/MafagafoGirl
Summary: A series of ficlets about my favorite dad-son duo.Just a drabble thing I needed to eject out of my chest before I end up dying. Also I felt the need to populate this place with more Lancer and his Lesser Dad fluff. Also I can't title things to save my life.





	1. Stroll to the Fields

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lancer asks for the Duke to take him to the Fields. They find marshmallows. Also there's some tragic backstory in the middle.

Of all the kings in the Dark World, the Spades King has always been the most... Impulsive. And since the arrival of that thing, the most mysterious character that wanted to be called by the name of Knight, he's been more unpredictable than ever. The Knight, just before he vanished, had given him great power, but also at a great cost, and nobody could tell if that was the last drop of good judgement on him, or the Queen of Spades, but whichever it was did leave its mark in a way no other Darkener could have predicted. Be it imprisioning the other kings, claiming the whole Dark World for himself, firing all the puzzle-building darkeners and creating the Duchy of Puzzles, under the premise of bringing darkness onto the light world, to make it fester on the outside and have them reign supreme, it all sounded very... Delusional.

 

Not that Rouxls Kaard was complaining, of course. Being a Duke now meant he didn't need to pay taxes to keep his shoppe open, plus he got to create some mind-boggling puzzles now and then. The only downside to that was that, more often than not, he had to look after the Jack of Spades, Lancer. The infant didn't understand quite yet the gravity of the situation surrounding his father. He just admired and looked up to him as any other prince would to the sovereign, and enjoyed his time as the supreme jack. Not needing to share space with other jacks, having the whole dark world as his toy, ordering around darkeners left and right to do as he sees fit or else he'd tell about them to his father. And the goddamn flaming bicycle he goes everywhere with, just a nuisance waiting to become a wildfire.

 

But, even with all his annoyances and power abuses, Lancer was still a child. He still enjoyed simple things, and the company of his father. And that was why he had showed up on the throne room early that day, still in his pajamas and dragging his blanket behind him; the castle was already in activity, however, and the king was tending to some boring paperwork, with the duke standing next to him waiting passively for directions.

 

"Hey dad! Dad!" Lancer sprinted forwards, taking his father's attention away from the scrolls between his hands, "what're we gonna do together today?! I wanna go to the Castle Town and-and--"

"Lancer, I'm busy," the father barked back, interrupting the child, "go change off your pajamas and, I don't know, bother Kaard for once. Away from me."

"But I am right hereth, milord." The duke shifted to him lightly.

"Oh, right." Seeing the disappointment on Lancer's face as the child slowly turned his back, the king couldn't help but think of something to cheer him up, his lips curling upwards and tongue sticking out in a devilish expression. He didn't care much about what the kid wanted, or what the kid did, but he knew how to make him feel better. "Hey, Lancer, I'm going to teach you a new trick."

 

The child turned back, eyes beaming, expectant. The king cleared his throat.

 

"I had a very tiring stroll this morning. My feet are killing me!" He glanced over at the duke, who stood in his place, hands clasped together pretending not to know what to do next.

 

"I SAID..." King of Spades shifted himself in his throne to get closer to the duke, "My FEET are KILLING me, Kaard."

 

Sigh.

"Stool forme."

 

The duke stood in front of the throne, getting on his palms and knees to serve as a stool for the king's feet. That did cheer Lance up, though.

 

"Ho ho ho, that's so cool!" The boy bounced in place, "but isn't it gonna weight on his back?" Lancer glanced back at the duke, with an expression that couldn't decide if diverted or worried.

"You don't need to worry about Kaard, Lancer." The father continued, "he's lesser than you, and me. He's just another of our subjects. He's here to serve you and me."

Roulxs Kaard shifted his head to face the jack, and gave him a little pained toothy grin. He'd rather pretend he didn't feel humiliated and that he'd rather be anywhere else, because the king tended to be a little... Overaggressive with people that opposed him.

 

Morning went on as usual. The king eventually got tired of having his feet up and left the duke be. With a sore back, he went to the shoppe, tend the collection of worms and insects, and, sooner than he'd hoped, the little tot marched in, leaving the burning bicycle outside for a change.

"Hey, Kaard! Can you-"

"T's the Duke of Puzzles to thee, littl' worme. What doth thee wanteth?"

"Can you take me to the Fields?!" Lancer completely ignored his request.

"As far as I'm awareth, thee can wend th're on thy owneth, cannot thee?."

"Yeah."

Silence.

 

"Hey, Kaard! Do you wanna listen to this new mp3 I got?"

"Is't anoth'r splart noiseth? I wisheth not."

"Oh."

Silence.

 

"Hey, Kaard!"

"If I go to the Fields with you, will you shut up?!!!" The duke dropped his accent for a split second, irritated that he couldn't focus on sorting the insects by color.

".........Yeah."

 

* * *

 

Out in the fields, some other darkeners enjoyed the nice "weather". It's always very cold in the Dark World, but today a warm breeze swept through the kingdom, as if someone had left an oven door opened and turned a fan on. It wasn't particularly morose, as the hot breezes and gusts of steam one would get close to the core of a geothermal generator, instead it was welcoming, and cozy, like a heater in a snowy day. So many darkeners were out playing catch, staring at the immense darkness up above and playing tabletop games in the grass. Lancer at first dragged Rouxls Kaard by the hand, but the duke was simply too slow for him, and he ended up running in front, and stopped at the foot of a dark tree, pointing up at the fruit on top.

 

"Hey Kaard, what's that?"

"has't thee nev'r seen a dark candieth bef're? T's a healing item."

"No, king dad doesn't let me. He says it'll turn me into a subject. I wanna eat one!"

"Haven't thou hadst thy luncheon?"

"...No, and I'm hungry though... That's more reason for me to get one!"

The duke nodded, and left the child to his own devices, to stand on the tip of his feet and raise his little hands up in the air as if that would make any difference.

 

"I can't reach it! Lift me up!"

Rouxls Kaard obliged. Lancer didn't wait to be put back on the floor to eat the dark candy.

"It tastes like marshmallows!"

"Shall we returneth now, mine prince?"

"Okay."

 

As they walked their way through the fields back to the castle, Lancer stared at the darkeners having fun, wondering if he should ask the duke a thing he always wanted to ask his father. He knew his father would refuse it instantly, but it was something he'd always wanted to try, after he saw some checker pieces doing it. It wouldn't hurt to ask Kaard about it, though.

"Hey Kaard?"

Sigh. "What is't, milord?"

"Can you carry me on your shoulders?"

The duke stopped, uncertain of how to react to that. He could say no, and make the child upset, and then have to drag him by his little arm the rest of the way, and maybe even have to be yelled at by the king for not humoring the prince. But he could also say yes, and maybe trigger a conversation he'd rather not have, and... Make the little tot happy for once.

 

"Of courseth, my prince."

...

...

...

"I always wanted that my dad carried me in his shoulders. I could see the whole kingdom from there! Even if I already can when we're at the castle. Ho ho ho, it's great to be up here, even though I can only see just a little bit more than I could on the ground. You're not as tall as you look, Kaard."

...

...

"I guess that... If my dad won't do it with me, I'll have you, won't I, Kaard? You're like... My lesser dad!"

!!!

"Is it okay if I call you lesser dad?"

 

Rouxls Kaard was glad the boy was on his shoulders and couldn't see his smile.

 

"Of course it is, Lancer."

 


	2. Puzzle-Hardening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Duke of Puzzles has to take care of puzzles.

Lancer hopped from stone to stone on the side of the pathway exiting the castle and going towards the forest, while the Duke walked alongside him in the middle of the path. It was finally time to reevaluate the older puzzles, something he dreaded to do since he was given the title of Duke of Puzzles. He hated puzzles. Absolutely, dapsolutely despised them, because he was just so bad at solving them. Charades, color puzzles, slide puzzles -- all of them were such a bother.

And it didn't help that, in this same day, the king had ordered him to watch over Lancer once more.

"Lesser dad," Lancer balanced himself in one foot on a little tile that looked like a club, "where are we going again?"  
"We art going to... Fixeth some puzzles."  
"Fix them? Who broke them?"  
"Nay one.  We art to maketh those hard'r so whatev'r lightners dareth to cometh down receiveth did stick f'r enow timeth to alloweth the king's army cometh to capture those folk. "  
The two walked around dirt paths among the purple trees, Lancer getting closer so he wouldn't lose himself again on the forest maze.  
"We could just throw a bunch of guys to defeat them," Lancer kicked around a fallen leaf on the floor, sticking his tongue slightly out in mild concentration, "then you wouldn't need to fix any puzzles and we would have more time to hang out together."  
Rouxls Kaard sighed. He did not wish to 'hang out' with that despicably spoiled little brat. He was a pain to satisfy, was always commanding around troops and civilians as if they were his own toys, and frankly if it wasn't for the king and his dungeon-y ways to deal with who dares to upset his son, the duke would already had given the little jack a piece of his mind. Lancer continued talking, about how he managed to pester the Jigsawry out of actively banning him from their donation hole and how he knocked again on the door to Castle Town to try to talk to the boy that lived there, but nobody answered again. One of these days he would manage to get the boy to open that door and hang out with him!

Alas, there they were, then, standing in front of one of the first puzzles when one comes from Castle Town towards the castle, as it was said in the prophecy that the lighteners would come first from there. The puzzle was just one more of these suit passwords, with the answer written on top of the display so that other darkeners wouldn't forget it. How to make that puzzle harder, Kaard pondered. A longer solution? A trickier solution, that involved more switches to be pressed? Maybe if--

"Lesser dad!" Lancer called him, laid down on top of a bush nearby.  
"I am not thy less'r father, thee dram worme. "  
"You told me I could call you that!" The child pouted, but then stuck his tongue out again in a mischievous grin, "so I will!"  
How dare him remember a moment of utmost vulnerability! Kaard had only said that to appease the jack, he despised the nickname and could never see himself being the brat's father, much less a lesser version of that. "Fine.  Alloweth me concentrateth, Lancer.  I has't to bethink"  
"Urgh, puzzles are boooriiiiiing," the boy let his body fall back on the bush, sending small magenta leaves flying, and faced the darkness above, "I wanna go home!"  
"Lancer, I'm trying to bethink, wouldst thee PLEASETH beest quiet?!"  
"Oh, I didn't know you needed quiet to think!" Lancer lift himself back up and jumped out of the bush, landing in front of the duke, deciding to immitate his thinking position, with the chin rested on the crook between his thumb and rigid index finger. "How am I supposed to know what to do if you don't tell me? It's like you told me once, communication really i-"  
The boy's almost last words, spoken with a bit of annoyance, gave the duke a brilliant idea, and, interrupting the kid, he lifted him up in excitement.  
"Yond's t, Lancer, thee genious lil' tot! I just has't to eraseth the answer!"  
Putting the jack back down on the ground gently, he bent his knees and pulled his keys from his jacket's internal pocket, with a menacing pose, as if the keys were a sharp knife, and turned himself on his heels so he could scratch out the solution above the display, like a teen avenging his bad grades on his teacher's innocent car. A few moments passed, and Lancer is, uncharacteristically, patiently waiting behind him, rocking back and forth on his heels; he seemed pensive, as if Kaard's words have troubled him somehow. The duke took a step back to admire his work -- you couldn't see the figures anymore, that was perfect! Now whoever has to solve the puzzle has to think of two possibilities for each color! He started wondering out loud:  
"Seeth, Lancer, this is some real w'rk we've accomplishedth, and I couldn't've--"  
"I don't get it. King dad says that I'm a worm brain, that-that-he said that my head is empty cuz I never learn when to shut up. And.. And..." He looked around, having trouble to bring words together to let out his thoughts, as any child would, "you keep saying to him that his words are law, right?"

Sigh. Babysitting could get really difficult. Specially if the baby you're sitting is used to be dismissed and treated horribly by his father. Kaard kneeled before the prince, holding the boy's shoulder.  
"Thou art not a dimwit, Lancer.  Thou art just a child."  
"But if his words are law..." The jack was lost in his own thought-ferry, "... and you said something that contradicts his word..." Lancer made a worried, but intrigued face, as if he didn't like the conclusion he ended up with, but didn't know if it was right, "does that mean we're going to jail?"

The duke let out a chuckle after seeing where the child's thought process went, but somewhere deep down he felt a chill down his spine. He had avoided prison for so long, and, as much as the boy's wonder was unreasonable, it did bring back the fear he had every time he was around the king, that just simply as trying to make a child feel better about himself would be enough to jail him for going against the king's ruel.  
"Well, uh... Not if-not if 't be true thee keepeth quiet about it.  Like-like. " His nerves were clearly showing even though he tried to pretend they weren't there, "when we ate those dark candies, remember? And thou mustn't tell THAT to thoust father. So let's keepeth this too between us. How does that sound?"  
"I don't wanna lie to king dad..." The boy became despondent again, but the wheels in his cog-filled head started turning again, "But if I do tell him I helped you with your puzzles... Maybe he'll understand that he was wrong! And that I'm smart!"

Lancer made the duke let go of his shoulder, and started jogging back to the castle, waving at Kaard.  
"Bye lesser dad! I'll tell king dad how smart I am!"  
At first, Kaard thought of stopping Lancer, afraid of what consequences that might bring to him. But Lancer was already disappearing behind bushes, and he decided just to stand up, holding his hand close to his heart, just hoping that some of the boy's love and admiration just break through the king's rude surface. He knew that it wouldn't, but he wished to hope.

 

* * *

 

"Kaard!"

The king's powerful voice trembled the collumns of the castle, prompting the duke to arrive in his throne room as quickly as was darknerly possible. Whatever made him scream for his presence so loud, it couldn't be good. The duke scurried into the room, bowing to the king as soon as he reached the throne. The king rested one of his legs on a pile of checker pieces, that wiggled their little feet in the air, and his cheek solidly placed on his hand, which arm was spilled over the throne's arm in apparent discontent.

"Kaard. Lancer came here this afternoon with some interesting... Tale."

The duke swallowed dry, daring not to talk. The king's belly-mouth smiled villanesquelly to him.

"That he'd helped you with refitting the puzzles."  
"Yond ist correct, mine own liege."  
"...Did he do a good job?"

Kaard stopped. Was the king actually... Interested in Lancer?  
"Yes, sire. The littl' tot tries his hardest."  
The king nodded. The belly-mouth fell serious too.  
"Keep encouraging him like that. If all else fails he'll at least have some sort of brain in that fluffy head of his. You're free to go. Oh, and Kaard."  
The duke interrupted his bow midway to shift his head up to the king.  
"If he shows up to me wanting to tell me stories, I'll have him spend a night with the prisoners."  
Bow. Turning on his heels. Hurried steps towards the shoppe.

The king wasn't stupid. He knew Kaard was just a melty pile of heartstrings, and as much as the duke of puzzles would deny, he nurtured deep care for the jack. The way to keep Rouxls Kaard doing what he wanted him to do with impeccable success was to threaten to harm Lancer.

 

* * *

 

Lancer strolled into the shoppe calling the duke and starting up with some story about how he made Mr. Society teach him a magic trick, and Kaard listened to his tale leaning forwards on the balcony. Once he finished, he nodded.  
"T seemeth thee hadst fun, didn't thee?"  
"I did! I'm gonna make him teach me another one tomorrow!" The boy put his tongue out, with a beaming smile full of crooked baby teeth. Lesser dad chuckled, and extended his arm to him over the counter, holding in his gloved hand a little magazine and a pen.

"How about solving some word searches, mine prince?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a headcanon that the king likes to use his subjects as footrests.


	3. Melting Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which he gets a glimpse of another timeline
> 
> tw for light body horror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this took a long time. I'm sorry. I got all tied up on finals, and then on holidays, and once they were over I got hit with a big chunk of writer's block. I decided to take that block away by doing what I do best: angst!
> 
> So yea, sorry about what comes next. I know you guys want fluff.

It had all started with Jevil, that troublesome fiend. As soon as the old court jester beckoned the little Lancer closer, talking his barely intelligible gibberish, making the boy cock his head to the side and consider getting the master key from the Duke's room so he could be let out, the duke knew there would be trouble. Was it true what the jester said? That if Lancer went inside the cell, he'd be let outside? Whatever that meant?

 

The jack touched the bars, staring up at the frilly black-eyed darkener with a mixture of admiration and apprehensive curiosity. They were just close enough for him to feel Jevil's silky, moss-covered clothes--

 

"Lancer! What are thou doing up hereth with this monstrosity!" His lesser dad called from behind, going down the stairs frenetically, tripping over his long legs to reach the prince and pull him away from the bars. Jevil made a face.

"It's the duke! The new duke! Coming to pry the prince from my lonely world!"

 

"Spareth thy nonsense for the wall mice! Thou haveth no business littering Lancer's mind." Kaard held the child close to his chest, and the boy stuck out his tongue in introspective protest in the duke's arms.

"Aww, we were really hitting it off!"

"Oh, but duke! Duke!" Jevil gestured theatrically, "lend me your ears! Lend me your thoughts! Look to the outside! Outside!" He pointed to the wall behind him, "I were a prisioner like you once, and the Knight showed me out! He did!"

 

For some reason, he took the bait. The wall behind the lunatic sounded very intimidating, sent a chill down the duke's spine.

"...What?" Roulxs Kaard called under his breath, more confused and offput than actually angried at how Jevil approached Lancer and his pure and innocent soul. The madman's babble would make the little tot keep asking uncomfortable things for the rest of the week, to him AND to the King. And that was the last thing he needed, to see the child be dismissed and yelled at for interrupting important kingly duties.

Alas, the ex-court jester continued, as if he'd heard him --or perhaps too lost in his own derailed train of thought to care if he was being heard or not.

 

"Let him show you the outside too! Hoo hoo! Search it on the back of your mind, and you'll have it! A story untold, the you that never were, because it's out. And you're not. You're not out!"

The wall looked red and orange. It looked steamy, then dark, so very dark. And then it didn't look like anything. Kaard collected himself, believing that to be just some sort of lightheadedness caused by stress, and left the mad jester talking to himself without saying a word, carrying a confused and mildly upset Lancer in his arms like a trouble-looking kitten.

 

"Wait, we were having fun! He invited me to play!"

"Jevil doest not knoweth what he sayest. Stayeth far from him." Kaard spoke with a grave voice, that made Lancer re-evaluate his thoughts. At least for a second.

"Is this about letting him show you the world?"

"No, Lancer, it's --" He stopped to let out a groan, "just... wend not down thereth anymore...th. Please?" Letting Lancer down once they've reached the shoppe, he put his hands on his hips in an obviously disapproved stance.

"Okay... But you shouldn't be afraid of new experiences, lesser dad!"

Kaard rolled his eyes. "Go play with the checker pieces." He brushed off, pushing Lancer's back gently as he went into the shoppe to organize the stock.

 

Jevil’s strange words and the vision he had down there haunted the duke for the better half of the day, and most of his night. What could it mean? ‘The you that never was’? Could he be talking of Kaard’s long lost dream of becoming a master calligrapher and bug conneseur? No, that would be impossible –only his dia--journal knew that. The fiery, steamy whirlwind followed by emptyness haunted his dreams, and something had let him know, he wasn’t sure what, but in his dream he knew it for certain that was how he died. But not here, no, the Dark World didn’t have a place such as that. Could it be… Another him?

 

Could be. Should he note that down for further evaluation?

 

* * *

 

Roulxs Kaard was never the greatest at puzzles. Which was ironic, considering his position. However that absolute incompetence had never torn him down… Until now. Watching Lancer scribble on answers on a cryptogram laying on the floor of the shoppe snacking on fried worms made the duke almost ashamed of that. Things so simple a child could do them for fun, and he was here unable to solve a mere password puzzle to save life. Pathetic. How very pathetic.

 

Many things that he did not think before started emerging now, like an iceberg that had just been flipped around; the haunting nightmare of witnessing his death in a boiling cauldron plaguing his sleep almost every night now, making assumptions and achieving conclusions he shouldn't (such as calling Lancer’s inventive way of solving a color cube by breaking it apart and rebuilding it ‘interestinge… Very interestinge’), and lately he had started… Feeling something weird when looking in the mirror.

 

Was that handsome man with the beautiful eyelashes and the mouth gap himself? It had to be, he was standing in front of a mirror, that reflects things perfectly. He didn’t recognise the image, though. Not in a ‘complete stranger’ kind of way, but in a ‘I don’t completely understand how that is me’ kind of way. He touched his face, pressed his tongue against the mouth gap and ran his fingers through the still uncombed perfect white hair dripping down his shoulders, and stared at the image on the mirror, for who knows how long, in his royal duke pajamas. That had to be him.

 

Yes. It was him.

 

The Duke would go through this almost every night now, and, if it stayed this way, it would be alright, he would get used to it, eventually. But the dreams started changing. They weren’t necessarily more vivid, but they focused now on a different part of his death; what was around didn’t matter anymore, it was old news. What mattered is the feeling of death. Melting. Decaying. Feeling like at one second you’re there, and in the other, nobody remembers you exist. Kaard woke up in a cold sweat, and frankly couldn’t sleep anymore throught the night. Just having the thought of melting away, trying to put yourself upright again, seeing your flesh ooze through your fingers and down your arms as you suddenly become completely unaware of what you’re touching. Your senses don’t work anymore –and you doubt they ever will. All it’s left for you then is to watch, to become a puddle, and cease to exist.

 

He hug his arms, trying to reassure himself that he was there, solid, sensible, inside the silk pajamas and between the linen of his bedsheets, not oozing, not melting. Just there. He didn’t hear the alarm buzz in to a new day, or went outside his quarters to greet the darkeners who came to light the castle in the morning, he just stayed rolled around his sheets, trying to convince himself that he was not dying. Nor was melting. It was a hard thing to do, convince yourself of something when you’ve just felt the exact opposite happen to you. So he stayed there, engulfed in his own terror.

 

* * *

 

The king was getting impatient. Where was the Duke with his breakfast? It was well into the morning and he wouldn’t leave his bed without having his fix of toast and worm jelly. To hell with that, Kaard already ruined his day, he might as well go find the stupid shopkeeper anyway.

“Do you know where lesser dad is, king dad?” Lancer showed up on the doorframe, carrying his blanket up close.

“Well, he’s not here, is he? What a way to RUIN MY MORNING!” The king shouted, trembling the palace, hoping the duke would jump from behind a door or something, balancing the tray with his gloved hand and spitting out apology after apology as if those would save him from spending a night in the dungeon.

 

But there was only silence, and the little jack pulling himself closer to the frame, hugging the blanket tighter. The Spades King certainly didn’t nurture any sort of affection towards Roulxs Kaard, but not hearing a single sign of his presence did strike to the king as funny. He stepped off his bed and descended towards the duke’s quarters, with an aprehensive Lancer on his tail, and stopped at the quarter’s door, watching the decorations the duke installed to personalize his bedroom. The taxidermied bugs framed above the bed. The mirror right across it. The shelves with a collection of law books, figures, calligraphy pens and a framed crude drawing Lancer made when he was a wee little tot. The king’s eyes circled through the room, his belly-mouth stretching with a bad feeling, and they rested on the duke himself, hunched on the messy bed, still holding his own arms and running his fingers up and down.

 

“Kaard, you delayed my breakfast.” The king started, and for a moment, nobody answered. Then, a whimper, a cracked, small voice.

 

“Am I even alive?”

“What?!”

“I feel like I’m melting away.”

“You’re talking nonsense, Kaard. Get your butt out of there and get me some breakfast already.”

“Have you ever felt like you’re not completely existing?”

 

The duke turned to face his king, his eyes narrow and pupils like pinpricks, pained and sorrowful, crawling towards him slowly, but desperate, in a last effort to keep his sanity.

 

“Like a part of you is-it’s not completely you but-but it doesn’t exist anymore. And you watched it die, your Majesty, you watched it die and you couldn’t do nothing. I don’t know if I’m still alive anymore, sire. I don’t know if I’m the me that is not. Tell me which one am I.” He grasped the front of the royal jammies in a violent cry for help. “TELL ME! WHICH ONE AM I?”

 

The king pushed Kaard away with a startled, and perhaps disgusted, interjection, and the frail man just fell backwards heavily on the bed, with a yelp, and kept on his weeping.

 

“You better cut this by tomorrow, or I’ll have you rot away in the dungeons like that godforsaken jester. What a waste of a perfectly fine servent!”

 

The Spades King left, grumbling to himself. Lancer stayed. It was scary to see his lesser dad act like that. His voice without the silly accent, the flamboyant inflections, the weird wording. It didn’t sound like the duke he knew. But, being this whoever they were, they sounded in a lot of pain. Tucking his blanket closer to his body, hugging it tighter as he had ever did, the little jack approached the figure moping on the bed, and spoke up, shily.

 

“L-lesser dad?”

 

There were no more weeps. A brief pause, and heavy breathing.

 

“You’ll be okay. Right?”

…

…

“Lancer?”

The child came in closer for a hug, and let the moping, melting figure take him on his arms.

“I’ll tell you who you are. You’re my lesser dad. And I’m, uh…” The prince stopped to think. What did Kaard always call him again? “I’m your little tot.”

 

There was silence. Kaard didn’t need to say anything else.

He was sure of who he was now.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys enjoyed it! I'm not very active in ao3 but I'll try to answer your comments ^^  
> Thank you all for the kind words you shout at me in the comments. I have a bunch of stuff I wanna do for this and you guys make me wanna keep doing them c:  
> Also I apologise if the characters sound a bit OOC. I don't write fanfics often.


End file.
